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Realizing I’m just standing here doing nothing when my magic is arguably the most powerful of any witch in attendance, I square my shoulders and step out from my hiding spot. Pulling on my magic, I recite the words to create a fire spell. The flame ignites between my hands, and I push more power into it while shaping it into a ball of fire.
When it’s the size of a softball, I rear back and throw it toward the older woman accosting Bernadette, and now Steph, with narrow streaks of lightning. As if she senses the incoming grenade, she spins to the side, watching as my fireball flies harmlessly past her.
“Damn it,” I grit out from between clenched teeth, then start working on a new one.
As the fire grows between my palms, my eyes catch movement in the shadows across the clearing from me. A witch in a dark cloak steps out, and her hood falls back, revealing her face. It’s Guinevere, the Brimmwise witch who made the connection between my name and the Grundelier line of leaders.
She’s looking to her right with an ugly smile on her face, and as my eyes follow her line of sight, my chest hollows out. Steph has moved several feet away from Bernadette, and her back is to Guinevere as she battles another Brimmwise witch who’s circled around to attack from behind.
My eyes snap back to Guinevere. A dark, thick mist pours from her palms as she holds them a few inches apart, and as I suck in a startled breath at the sight of it, I smell sulfur and ash.
This is dark magic, something I’ve never seen before. I watch with trepidation as the mist forms into a spherical shape, pulsing like a living thing between Guinevere’s palms and lit from within by flashes of static electricity.
I take a step forward, my mouth forming a soundless shout as Guinevere pulls her hands––and the ball of magic––over her head in preparation to let it fly. I snap into action, my quick vampire feet eating up the space between us.
But I’m too late.
Guinevere releases the magic just before I slam into her, driving her to the ground. I spin and watch with dread as the magic speeds toward Steph’s still-exposed back, and I scream her name so loudly, everyone in the clearing freezes.
As if in slow motion, I see Jesse flying toward Steph, but he’s not going to make it. He was too far away, and my shout came too late. I want to close my eyes, but they’re frozen just like the rest of me.
Suddenly, time speeds back up. There’s a flurry of movement just before the sphere of dark magic hits Steph. She jerks to the side, tripping and falling to the ground.
And in her spot stands Bernadette, who flies backward as the spell intended for Steph strikes the center of her chest. My eyes widen as Bernie bounces against the ground once, then…nothing.
She doesn’t move. There’s no rise and fall of her chest. No twitch of her brow.
“Aunt Bernie,” Steph screams, scrambling forward on all fours to hover over Bernadette.
I rush forward as Steph’s hands fly over her aunt’s body, searching for any signs of life as tears pour down her cheeks. Jesse gets there before me and presses two fingers to Bernadette’s neck. Lifting his head, he meets my stare with sad eyes and a small shake of his head.
“No,” I breathe, and Steph lets out a bloodcurdling wail.
That’s when the screaming starts.
I spin around, and my lips part in surprise as every robed witch drops to the ground and writhes, their screams echoing off the trees around us. Ignoring them, the witches of the other two covens move in as one, circling around Bernadette’s body with bowed heads and whispered prayers.
Steph’s wailing grows louder, and Erik appears beside her, dropping to his knees and hugging her against him. I feel Jesse’s arms lock around me just before he jerks me against his chest, holding me tightly as words of condolence whisper between his lips.
“What’s happening?” I ask a few beats later as the screams around us start to die down.
“A Brimmwise witch murdered a council member,” he murmurs, and the memory of Bernadette’s voice rings in my ears.
If any coven tries to break free of the spell or kills a member serving on the council, they lose their magic, entirely. And if the council is destroyed, if every member serving in its ranks perishes, every coven affected by the spell will be stripped of its power. The witches will be no more. We’ll all simply be…human.
Brimmwise killed Bernadette, however unintentionally. By taking the blow meant for Steph, Bernie saved not only her, but all of us.
The Brimmwise coven is done. They’re all humans, now.
Humans.
Yanking out of Jesse’s grasp, I look over to where Guinevere last stood. She’s on her knees, her face turned upward as tears stream down her cheeks. Her mouth falls open and a hoarse scream erupts from her. Pain and grief over the loss of her magic. Regret that her actions caused her entire coven to suffer the same fate. Fear over what the future will hold for them.
I can feel all of those emotions in that single scream, but do you know what I don’t feel? Remorse.
She doesn’t care that she took a life. That she struck a kind, caring woman down and left the rest of us grieving over the loss. That she took a person who was, for all intents and purposes, a mother to my best friend.
My feet are moving before I realize what I’m doing. I hear Jesse call out to me, but my rage overrules my good sense as I screech to a halt beside Guinevere in less than a second.
